The Daemon Faerie
There once was a lass from Old Derry
Who fell fast in love with a faerie
She tried to escape
Before he could rape,
Chop of her head, and her bury.
When first they'd eloped all was mellow
He seem such an innocent fellow
He brought her nice things
E'en bright emerald rings,
But later, he'd oft at her'd bellow
“Bring me my tea and bring my wine
And don't always make me complain
Or I'll tie ye up proper
And lock ye in t'hopper
And keep ye there long into spring.”
She had just one chance to get free
A foot or more taller was she
Once returned tipsy
He'd drunk like a gypsy
And barely could handle the key.
As the door finally opened he stumbled
He saw the ax coming but bumbled
To reach for his dirk
But it caught in his shirt
The blow caught him ever so humbled.
Severing the top of his skull
She buried the body in Mull
Though she not a Scott
It fell to her lot
To needs cover everything well.
A brother t'was a bailiff the nearest
Another t'was sheriff, her dearest
They'd come oft to see
How Annie might be
For rumors had the contae embarrassed.
“I hear ya flown off like a bird,”
Her good brother Richard inferred
She saw in his face
The doubts out of place
And rushed to allay with a word.
“It t'aint what you think brothers sweet,
I've many a good friend to meet
And work to do
And places new
To keep me over my feet.”
They both stared her down with some doubt
For they couldn't ne'er figure her out
Her man always missing
The crones about hissing
She ought'n their good will to flout.
Now the faerie he too had his brothers
Descended of Dagna and others
As high 'mongst their kind
As any you'll find
Not keen of their dead brothers lovers.
In fact in their land long betide
To marry someone from outside
Brought curses galore
Ill fortune and more
And Annie'd been thoroughly decried.
So widely was it now suspected
That the murder would soon be detected
That she bundled her things
Took once more to wings
But 'ere she reached Bray, intercepted.
They scurried her deep into forest
To face their Dail in chorus
She fainted away
And still to this day
No clue of her fate comes a'for us.
So if you should think to love foreign
First think o' the pale you were born'n
And don't take lightly
The risk the Almighty
May punish your sins in His scorn!
(At Amity, 12-9-16)